His Wish Is So Not Her Command
by Kaz Gemcity
Summary: When Shawn asks Juliet for a favor that goes against her morals will it endanger their relationship? Will Gus's new girlfriend try to capture Shawn's heart? Is there a murder and crime? Will there be mischif and maham? Yes. Yes. Yes. And of course!
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N- This is my first Psych. I just had to do it! _**

_1987_

_Henry Spencer was about to punch a hole through his freshly painted walls. The cause was, as usual, his one and only son Shawn. The constant buzz from the toy car was increasing Henry's bad mood. Not helping were the insistent rings of the phone. _

_"Hello!" Henry barked into the receiver._

_"Is this Henry Spencer?" A woman's voice on the other line asked._

_"Yes."_

_"I regret to inform you that your order of fourteen pineapple and bacon pies can not be delivered. Would you like to pick them up?" She asked cheerily._

_"Excuse me?" Henry asked. He had not ordered fourteen pineapple and bacon pies._

_"Your pies, . They are ready to be picked up." The woman repeated._

_"I did not order any pies." Henry informed her._

_"I have right in front of me that a Mr. Henry Spencer ordered fourteen pineapple and bacon pies to be delivered to the address of 234 Mississippi Lane. If there were any problems I was directed to call (677)-965-2278." The woman said, getting annoyed._

_"That is my address and my number, but I didn't order ant damn pies! Please cancel those orders and send the bill to that address." Henry said with as much calm as he could muster before slamming down the phone._

_"Shawn!" Henry yelled._

_"Yes Dad?" The little brown haired bay asked innocently from the couch._

_"I hope you have enough money to pay for fourteen pineapple and bacon pies!"_

_"Well you see Dad. I don't acctualy have to pay for those pies. Being as they were never delivered and never in my possession, no one can prove that that particular order of fourteen pineapple and bacon pies belong to me. Their wild conjuctures would never stand up in court." Shawn replied._

_Henry sighed. As much as he wanted to slap Shawn, the kid had a point. It wasn't ethical, and it wasn't moral, but the Shawn was right. He didn't have to pay for the pies. Henry did. Shawn had bought them under his name._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N- I love Psych. Shawn is awsome. I think they should make an episode where it crosses with the Mentalist. The tension between Patrick and Shawn would be so cool!**_

The lanky, almost always snarky, Shawn Spencer sat in front of the middle aged dark-haired woman. She was looking over a stack of papers while Shawn looked on. The woman had a look of well-disgused amaze on her face. Shawn could see through it though. It had been his job to read people, up until about two days ago.

"Do you have anything that would fit, Mrs. Jane?" Shawn asked politely. Had you known him you would have thought this was a robot Shawn and not the person you knew. Shawn's tone was not joking. It was not questioning. It was did not hold, at all, any tint of happiness. Shawn's eyes were those of another man. A depressed, fun hating, haunted man. You would wonder what happened. You would question his motives. You would look him in the eye and smack him. But had you done these things, Shawn would have just turned the other cheek. As if he didn't care anymore. But he did care. He just wouldn't admit it.

"What was your last job, Sweetie?" Normally Shawn would have been appalled that someone called him 'Sweetie.' Normally he would have made a comment or a movie reference or just started laughing. Normally Shawn wasn't at an employment office looking for a new job.

"My last place of employment was at Psych. It was Santa Barbra's finest psychic detective agency. We worked with the police and solved a great many 'unsolvable' cases." Shawn didn't put air quotes around 'unsolvable'. His voice stressed his contempt for the word.

"So you are a psychic?" Mrs. Jane asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Jane. Not to be rude, but may I ask your first name?" Shawn was getting interested in this woman. His years as a detective had taught him not to overlook any detail. Mrs. Jane's last name sounded familiar.

"Not rude at all, . My first name is Teresa." Shawn looked amazed. He thought that _The Mentalist _was a fake show.

"Teresa Jane? Is you husband's name Patrick? Is your maiden name Lisbon?" Shawn questioned excitedly. _The Mentalist _had been one of his favorite shows, until it had been canceled. Mrs. Jane laughed. It had been a while since anyone reconized her.

"Yes, . I am she. But back to business. I do believe that we have a spot for you. There is an opening for a psychic on one of those after-three-in-the-afternoon-talk-shows. I will call and let them know I have the perfect person for the job." Mrs. Jane informed Shawn, noticing that the smile left his face, and the haunted look returned to his eyes. She would have to tell Patrick about these things. Find out what was wrong with this troubled man.

"Thank you Mrs. Jane." Shawn said, before streching to his full hight and leaving the offices, not even stopping for free pineapple slices and chocolate chip cookies.

_**A/N- Thank you for reading. I couldn't resist adding in The Mentalist. It is not a cross over fic, so this will most likely be the only time that Mrs. Jane makes an appearence.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N- Still going up the list, only to realize that most of my White Collars are one-shots. I now have to get out of the casual-con-artist-working-for-the-FBI perspective out of my head, and dig into the spunky-fake-psychic POV. Should be fun trying to flip cold turkey. Hmmm, food. I think I'm getting close. Let me know what you think, as always. =-)_**

_Three Days Ago_

Gus stood aways apart from the body, right at Juliet's side. It was the same place he usually stood, because no one wanted to be in the way when Shawn and Lassiter got into it. Which they always would. Even McNab had learned to stay out of the detective's way when Spencer was involved.

Standing next to Gus was Henry Spencer. It had not gone unnoticed by Gus that Shawn's father was becoming somewhat of a common sight at their crime scenes. Shaking his head, Gus turned his attention back to Shawn. He was deep in the middle of a "psychic" trance.

"Spiders. I see spiders. And they're pulling me. . . " Shawn stuck out his arm and strutted around as if being led by his hand.

"They're taking me to a body. And they bite with metal teeth. Now it's red. Red everywhere. What's that spider-spirits?" He called out, his voice rising an octave and then dropping to a whisper.

"Spider venom." He said.

"Thanks so much Spencer." Detective Lassiter snapped, pushing past Shawn and ducking under the yellow police tape.

"We now know that Neil McGovern was killed by giant spiders." He remarked sarcastically. Jules and Gus rolled their eyes. Henry grimaced, and walked to go talk to Chief Vick. Shawn only grinned comically.

"No. Not giant spiders, Lassie-Boo. He was injected with a lethal amount of venom." He said smugly.

"Come on Gus, let's go. I have a sudden craving for french fries. Anybody else want some? No? Oh well, I think there's a really good seafood-slash-fry place down the street." With that Shawn turned and walked away, Gus following close behind him.

The detectives just watched the man walk away. There was no stopping him if he wanted something anyway.


End file.
